A Private, Little War
by Northwest Sage
Summary: ..."On one hand, if we don't do something, everyone dies." A lone voice called out, inquiring about 'the other hand'. Wheeljack paused briefly before answering. "There isn't one." WAR TRILOGY Part 1...
1. Chapter 1

**A PRIVATE, LITTLE WAR**

_After the Final Great War, members of both sides spread throughout the galaxy and settled on various planets. Few actually returned to Cybertron, due to its low energy levels and over population. This is the story about one such settlement._

CHAPTER ONE

"On one hand, if we don't do something, everyone dies." Wheeljack spoke the truth and his comrades knew it. The situation on the planet Dag had become far more serious than anyone had thought possible. What started out as a single voice, first roared by the feared _combat artist_ Slog, now included three additional Pretenders. They were a collection of warriors that gained a violent reputation as the last Great War came to an end.

Despite what was established by the Pax Cybertronia, the peace treaty that finally closed the doors on war in an official declaration, Slog and his crew ignored its regulations and conditions. Primarily, the treaty stated that as a result of the massive war crimes inflicted by the Decepticon Empire, that the purple emblem used to indicate their faction, were to be retired and removed from public view. They spat in the face of peace and carried on as before, the symbol of death and hate still prominent on their form.

Dag was a small planet, three times the size of Earth's moon. It was known, unofficially, as the retirement home for all sorts of mechanical beings. Some considered it a paradise due to its scenery and pleasant climate, and were more than eager to dwell there after their combat days ended. It was a good place to go when you didn't want to get noticed. When all you wanted to do was enjoy yourself.

But wearing the purple demon shield on ones body drew more than simple notice. It drew fear, anger, and painful memories. Once Slog learned of the rich energon deposits buried deep within Dag's soil, he made it known he intended on claiming the planet in the first step of re-establishing the Decepticon Empire.

The governing bodies did nothing to dampen Slog's ambition. The Decepticon Ambassador, Soundwave, stated that Slog and others in his steed were not acting on behalf of any official Decepticon order. "We can't be responsible for every warrior who seeks his own journey outside the Decepticon cause."

Ultra Magnus, once a feared and respected commander in the Autobot army, now took on the role of Autobot ambassador. His party response was that until action had been taken that could resemble an act of war, no intervention could be approved. Of course, Wheeljack and the few Autobots that called Dag home knew that if they waited for Slog and his army to act, it would be too late. If they were to save Dag and put an end to the looming doom that awaited them all, they had to act immediately. On their own and in an unofficial capacity, void of any Autobot support.

To make matters even more damning, an attack on Slog and his forces, if not done carefully, could incite rage in the remnants of the Deception Empire. They could claim the Autobots violated the treaty, making it void, and insisting on starting another Great War. Perhaps that was why Soundwave seemed uninterested in the rising tensions on Dag. Maybe he wanted someone to do something about Slog, only to use it as a means of reigniting past hatreds on both sides.

"On one hand, if we don't do something, everyone dies." Wheeljack spoke the truth and his comrades knew it. A lone voice called out, inquiring about 'the other hand'. Wheeljack paused briefly before answering. "There isn't one."

* * *

"I don't know about this," Bumblebee said. "We're old, run-down, nearing the end of our cycles."

"Speak for yourself!" Windcharger quickly objected.

"All I'm saying is," Bumblebee continued, "Is perhaps we should let someone else come to the rescue this time. We've done our bit for king and country."

Wheeljack walked over to his smaller friend and placed a hand on his shoulder. They had been through a lot over the years, _millions _of years in fact. Always looking out for each other, forever the best of friends. Wheeljack, the mad scientist and Bumblebee, the faithful follower. The trials and tribulations they had gone through together were many. Both were aboard The Ark when it left Cybertron ages ago and crashed on Earth. Bumblebee was there as Wheeljack apparently died in the infamous attack on Autobot City, only to miraculously return soon after.

Wheeljack witnessed Bumblebee's destruction and rebuilding into Goldbug, and later his evolution into a Pretender; only to later once again take his former name and likeness. And above all other horrors, they had survived the onslaught of Unicron.

"I'm not asking you to help me win a war," Wheeljack stated. "Just help me win a fight."

Bumbleebee turned away for a moment of clarity, then spoke once more. "You, me, Windcharger, and Trailbreaker against a Pretender army? No official mandate, no proper back-up. If we fail, at best we'll be labeled criminals or outlaws. At worst we'll start another Great War!"

"Quit being so negative," Trailbreaker said. He had grown tired of his retirement and relished the opportunity for a little action. "The four of us are as good as a hundred Pretender creeps."

Wheeljack's demeanor brightened as he informed the others of a recent discovery. "Actually," he said with a hopeful tone. "There are a few other Autobots here on Dag who have made it known they'd stand by us if a decision was made." Windcharger and Trailbreaker exchanged surprised glances, and then eagerly waited for the reveal. "Roadbuster, Whirl, and Bluestreak stand ready!" Even the worrisome Bumblebee found reason to be optimistic after hearing those three names.

"Maybe we _can_ do this after all," he stated.


	2. Chapter 2

CHAPTER TWO

_Slog's Domain_

The feared foursome was deep inside Slog's well-equipped living quarters, located in a particularly damp part of the city. Bristleback, known for his use of foul language, was cursing to himself about some prior altercation with a native. He was always angry and aggressive, no matter how well things may actually be going. His teammates often turned a deaf ear to his constant string of complaints, keeping him around only for his impressive fighting skills. His weapon of choice was a rapid-fire electrostatic pulse rifle... a pretty long name for something he proudly refers to as his "stun gun".

Birdbrain is a unique Pretender. While most enjoy and even relish the fact they have, in essence, a 'double' in battle, Birdbrain did not. Due to his sensors only working a third of the time, he had grown to hate his outer shell. He also suffers from a slight delay in his vocal compartment, earning him mocking laughter from his comrades. They think he suffers from sub-standard intelligence, but he suffers no such ailment. A double-barreled laser rifle is always in his hand while in robot mode. The beak located on his Pretender shell can cut through pretty much anything.

Reptiles fascinate Iguanus, and luckily for him Dag is home to several species. On his personal time, he's been seen staring at his reflection and admiring his outer shell. He has taken his appreciation so far as to imitate reptilian behavior and attack tactics. Of the four Pretenders, he stands as the most powerful and combat ready. His shell's optics contains hypno-beams, which can allow him to control his targets to a degree. His air-blaster sidearm is extremely forceful, able to generate winds of hurricane levels. Internal mechanisms generate equilibrium distorting effects that strikes his targets with intense vertigo, leaving them wide open for a savage hands-on beating.

Finally, there is the owner of the dwelling. Slog is both feared and respected for his _special_skills. He turns his victims into works of art in an effort to honor their memory. These twisted pieces of broken warriors filled every empty space in his domain. He was also known for his sculptors and art pieces depicting the glory of the Decepticon Empire and its leaders, most notably Megatron and Onslaught- commander of the Combaticons. Being an artist allows Slog to view the war differently than his comrades, as he openly wonders about the lives lost in battle, both Decepticons and Autobots.

"I grow tired of this waiting," Bristleback growled. "When do we get to blow things up?" The ground assault Pretender was hardly known for his patience. "When?"

Iguanus, the terror trooper, and Birdbrain, the aerial attack trooper, echoed their teammate's enthusiasm. "This planet is rich in energon and poor in defenses," Iguanus stated.

"We attack when I say so," Slog sternly announced. "This is a new dawning for the Decepticon Empire. Gone are the days of thoughtless attacks that only led to failure. Combat is an art," he continued. "And art takes small, soft strokes until the picture is complete."

"Actually," a voice called out from the distance, startling the gathered Pretenders," Combat is nothing like art, it is a destructive force that cannot be contained." The owner of the voice entered the room, garnering a sudden salute from the others. "And we attack when **I** say so."

"Roadblock!" Slog stated with a hint of both surprise and aggravation. It had been a long time since the infamous Ground Forces Commander made an appearance. Most thought him to be dead, and many more wished it. "What are you doing here on Dag?"

Roadblock approached Slog slowly, each step rich in authority and purpose. He knew no fear, and zero compassion for those who showed weakness in his presence. "I'm taking over this little battalion of yours to ensure victory." Strapped to his legs, for all to see, were two plasma blasters. As he walked ever closer to Slog, a stray light bounced off their handles making them glisten like two deadly diamonds. "My partners and I are very interested in your operation, and we plan to use it to re-establish a true Decepticon Empire... with us as its leaders!"

"Partners?" Slog asked. "What partners?"  
"In due time," Roadblock answered. "But first, we make preparations."

* * *

_City of Caltraxx..._

Wheeljack and his band of Autobots reached their agreed upon contact site. To the uninitiated, the building looked little more than a death trap waiting for an excuse to collapse. Even the local 'empties' found it unsafe for shelter. This of course made it a perfect place to prepare an offensive strike.

A hidden passageway within the crumbling structure led to a much more stable area beneath the foundation. It had the unexpected luxury of modern essential necessities, primarily power to run and maintain a moderate computer console. Whirl and Roadbuster were hard at work mapping out various strategies and scenarios, while Bluestreak was busy taking inventory of their weapons supply. "Quite the set-up you have here," Windcharger said. "All the comforts of home."

"It gets the job done," Roadbuster answered, leaving Whirl on his own and walking over to greet Wheeljack properly. "Been a while, old-timer."

Wheeljack nodded in agreement. "Yes it has. I wish our little reunion was under more... optimistic circumstances."

"It's the way of the beast," Roadbuster stated. "Peace is a fragile creature. You know as well as I do, there can be no true peace as long as a single Decepticon functions. Us gathering here today is proof of that fact."

"How long have you guys been using this place?" Windcharger shouted, still in awe of the make shift base. Nobody bothered to offer up an answer.

Trailbreaker stood behind Whirl and glanced at the data he was overlooking. "Any idea on where or when these Pretender scum are going to make their move?"

"Our informant tells us they plan to attack Outer Drek in two days," Roadbuster answered. "After claiming that as their stronghold, it doesn't matter where they go next. From that position, and with the amount of energy and weaponry stock piled there... nothing we could do would be able to shut them down."

"So we hit them before they hit Outer Drek?" Bumblebee asked, himself not quite as impressed with their surroundings as fellow minibot Windcharger.

"That's the plan," Bluestreak replied. "Hit 'em hard and hit 'em good!"

Wheeljack tensed up a bit after hearing of an informant. The only one he knew Roadbuster to use was not on his list of good personal friends. "Your informant," he said. "You don't mean that pile of slag Ramjet, do you?"

"That's the one," Roadbuster answered.  
"You know how I feel about that leech," Wheeljack complained.

Roadbuster and Ramjet, while engaged in a vicious battle many years ago, crashed on a hostile planet. They formed an uneasy alliance and put aside their differences, working together to survive the incident. Since that time, the two shared a common respect and called upon the other for aid every great once in a while.

"Well, you don't have to worry about me using him any more," Roadbuster said. "He's dead now."

"Dead?" Windcharger chimed in from across the room.  
"Blasted to bits in the crossfire of two local gangs." The words were void of emotion.

Wheeljack stood silent for a moment, unsure of what to say. "I'm sorry," was all he could come up with.

"Don't be," Roadbuster coldly replied. "It's the way of the beast."


	3. Chapter 3

CHAPTER THREE

_24 Hours Later... Slog's Domain_

"Mission summary complete," Bristleback informed Roadblock. "Attack points within Outer Drek have been selected and the necessary courses have been outlined."

It pleased Roadblock to hear such news. "Excellent," he smiled. "Tomorrow we invade that wretched city and claim its weapons and energon stockade. Then we conquer the planet Dag itself." The ground forces commander took his place in the center of the room and sat. "You have all done well. Victory shall belong to the Decepticons!"

Slog shot a disgusted look at comrades Iguanus and Birdbrain. He then slammed a fist into the side of a wall and yelled his thoughts. "Enough!" he roared, his optics focused solely on Roadblock's arrogant form. "I've waited long enough. If you expect me to go along with your plan, then I demand answers. Who are these 'partners' you spoke of?"

"You are in no position to demand anything, Slog," Roadblock responded sternly. "And I am in no mood to reveal anything."

Slog brushed past Bristleback, who had taken it upon himself to act as a physical buffer, and approached the cause of his unease. "I have known your type for far too long to continue this waiting game," he stated. "Decepticons like you speak loud and walk heavy, yet underneath it all stands a frightened and disillusioned coward." Slog closed the gap between he and Roadblock. "Do you know what happens to fools that blindly follow your kind?"

His optics narrowed as he continued his verbal assault. "Death. Destruction. Where are all the legends, Roadblock? The ones you remind me of and the ones you desperately wish to be?" Slog glanced back at his comrades briefly, then concluded his speech. "They are now behind the sun. Gone and forgotten, because they listened to the likes of you."

Roadblock felt an evil grin cross his face. Knowing the intense anger and distrust he had manifested in Slog provided him a sick and perverted pleasure. "And what of those that followed you, Slog?" Roadblock asked. He deliberately looked around the room, his mannerisms making it clear he did not see whom he was searching for. "Where are your fellow Pretender Monsters... Icepick, Scowl, and Wildfly?"

Slog took on the appearance of an apologetic child. "Oh, that's right," Roadblock continued. "You sent them to Charr on a recon mission and they never made it back. Missing in action, isn't it?" Slog felt the sting of truth hit his circuits, but he stood still. "Not only did you deplete your ranks, but your actions caused the loss of Monstructor, the most evil combiner in the universe."

"You amuse me, Slog," Roadblock stated. "And that is why you continue to function." Despite the surge of energy building within his body, he chose not to respond with violence. Instead, he would show the others that sometimes words could cause as much pain as anything else. "Perhaps when this is over, you can make one of your legendary statues of great Decepticon leaders." Slog's face was overtaken by an evil sneer, almost demonic in its ferocity. He didn't appreciate someone making light of his trade. "Only this time, it can be of a candidate truly worth praising, me!"

A distant and dreadful noise erupted from every direction, causing momentary panic amongst the Pretenders. "What is that horrible sound?" Roadblock shouted, his voice only slightly louder than the sudden annoyance.

"My early-warning detection alarm!" Slog responded back with surprise. "We have incoming guests!"

* * *

The initial stages of the battle were even, with neither side gaining a definite advantage over the other. Soon, however, the tide turned in a dark direction, as the Pretenders began to dominate their invaders.

"I knew this was a bad idea," Bumblebee shouted, narrowly avoiding being hit by Bristleback's electro-static pulse rifle. "We're out-manned and out-gunned!"

"Shut up and keep shooting back!" Bluestreak responded. The Autobot gunner had seen more than his fair share of close combat, and felt totally at ease in the midst of the danger. He also knew that the most important thing to do, no matter how much the odds were against you, was to never stop firing your weapon.

"This is lunacy!" Slog barked, dropping his malfunctioning magnetic rifle and resorting to using a rather harmless appearing hand phaser. "You cannot win this battle! Surrender now and I will ensure your deaths have honor!"

"I don't think so," Roadbuster exclaimed, knocking both Trailbreaker and Wheeljack out of the line of fire. "Like one of my good friends once said, I've got better things to do tonight than die!"

Suddenly, for no explainable reason, all the combatants ceased fire and stared out across at their enemies. On one side stood seven Autobots, weapons recharging and scorch marks across their bodies. The other side saw five Pretender warriors and their respective Pretender shells, numbering a total of ten. It was in this brief moment of stillness that both sides realized an undeniable truth.

Amidst blaster damage and destroyed equipment, a silent belief was reinforced as timeless fact. When it comes to the Autobot-Decepticon conflict, there can never be lasting peace. The Great War is as constant as the Northern Star, it is unending.

And then, the battle began anew.


	4. Chapter 4

CHAPTER FOUR

"Slag 'em all!" Bristleback cackled. "Make them taste their own waste!" His hand darted out and grabbed Bumblebee around the neck. Without much effort, he hoisted him high into the air and tossed him across the room. "Birdbrain," he called out, his optics spanning the battle scene for his comrade. "Birdbrain, take your shaft over there and start carving up the yellow grok with your beak!" Trailbreaker approached Bristleback from behind and earned his full attention. Birdbrain was in no condition to comply with Bristleback's request; he had been on the losing end of a one-on-one confrontation with Whirl.

Iguanus was having a fun time with his foes. After using his hypnotic abilities to force Bluestreak and Windcharger to square off, he grew bored and actived his equilibrium distorting effects. They quickly lost all control over their bodies and fell to the ground. With evil intentions flowing through his circuits, Iguanus pounced on Bluestreak's torso and began ripping into his armor. Windcharger could do nothing but watch and wait his turn. In a showing of true ego, the Pretender made it a point to include the still weakened Bumbleebee in his torturing. He took great pride in handling three Autobots by himself.

Seeing the two noble Autobots lose control of their bodies brought a sense of terror to Roadbuster, who was having his own struggles with Roadblock and Slog. "Wheeljack!" he shouted. "Wheeljack! I could use a hand over here!"

Wheeljack picked himself up from an earlier scrap and ran to his friend's aid. "I'm coming, I'm coming!" he shouted. He decided to tackle Slog and leave Roadblock for Roadbuster. "I'll take the ugly one!" A high kick to Slog's temple sent him reeling back several feet, but he did not go down.

"You are a brave warrior," Slog stated with slight admiration evident in his tone. Lubricant leaked out of one corner of his mouth, causing him to taste his own fluids. "I will make sure I turn your defeated corpse into a worthy work of art." He grabbed Wheeljack by the waist and squeezed mightily, causing stress fractures to appear on the Autobot's frame. "Perhaps something abstract?" he pondered aloud.

Trailbreaker had tweaked his force-field abilities and used them to contain a very agitated Bristleback. Try as he might, the Pretender was unable to move and was forced to witness the tide of battle change. "You just go ahead and get comfy," Trailbreaker joked as he walked away. "No need getting too excited, you aren't going anywhere." He then joined Whirl in apprehending Iguanus, who was still carving up both Bumblebee and Windcharger. The minibots were going to require massive medical attention soon.

"Look around you, Roadblock," Roadbuster challenged, ducking a right hand and landing one of his own. "This isn't going your way any longer. Maybe you should start considering a surrender!" The former Wrecker jumped up and thrust a kick into Roadblock's chest, rocking the evil commander and forcing him to one knee. "Face it," Roadbuster added, "It's not your time."

Wheeljack was having his tail handed to him by Slog, who continued pounding on the Autobot engineer. His optics did a quick scan of the area to give him an update on how the battle was going. He caught a glimpse of Trailbreaker and Whirl continuing to restrain not only Iguanus, but also a rejuvenated Birdbrain. Bristleback had somehow managed to weaken his force-field prison and rejoined the attack by grappling with Bluestreak. The Autobot gunner had fought his way free from Iguanus and had been keeping an eye out for possible reinforcements on a request from Roadbuster, but his attacker interrupted his orders. The lifeless bodies of Windcharger and Bumblebee continued to inspire fear into their comrades.

Wheeljack struggled to his feet and managed to get some distance between he and Slog. In that brief moment of freedom, he fired his shoulder-mounted rocket and prayed it would be enough to end their one-on-one fight. Slog was quicker than Wheeljack had thought, however, and easily moved out of the rocket's path, sending it crashing into one of the few remaining walls. His energy nearly depleted, Wheeljack's optics dimmed, becoming an easy target for a blast from Slog's firearm. Smoke rose from Wheeljack's torso as Slog walked over and investigated the fallen warrior.

"Perhaps it is you who should consider a surrender," Roadblock snarled. He motioned for Roadbuster to look around and see his soldiers weary and defeated. Roadbuster paused in his attack and took in the damage. With his attention momentarily diverted, the Pretender commander jammed the barrel of his weapon through the Autobot's chest. Intense pain shot through Roadbuster's body, made even more obvious by the deafening scream that followed. Before more damage could be caused to the Autobots, two shadowed beings entered the area, drawing a startled reaction from Roadblock.

"I wasn't expecting you so soon," he said. He stepped over the fallen bodies and made his way towards the recently arrived. "I trust your travel here was without incident."

Slog left Wheeljack's twitching body and made his way towards Roadblock. The smoke was thick and black, causing problems with Slog's optics. "Whom are you talking to?" he demanded.

"My partners have arrived," he answered proudly. "I present to you- Decepticons Skywarp and Motormaster. The future of the Decepticon Empire!"

* * *

Outer Drek fell in less than two days, giving Roadblock's platoon an incredible amount of weaponry and energon. His recently arrived partners Motormaster and Skywarp were impressed with how the field commander handled the mission. With the Autobots either off-line or severely damaged, all attention and resources were directed on taking the city and they were met with very little resistance.

A handful of natives took up arms and tried to hold their ground, but it was a fool's errand. They were no match for the vicious Pretenders and their spirits were quickly broken, as were their bodies. The foul stench of battle and death filled the air of Outer Drek, with nary a hint of sweetness to be savored. "Smells like slag," Bristleback announced to whoever cared to listen. And it did.

"Intelligence reports indicate that there are rebel cells forming in three major sects on Planet Dag," Iguanus stated, his optics scanning the latest information to filter in.

"Let them form all the cells they want," Roadblock replied. "They pose no threat to us. They will fall as easily as Outer Drek and then Dag will be ours."

"I have to admit, I'm surprised with how well you've managed things thus far," Skywarp admitted. "I was expecting to arrive here and see your body in a heap, full of holes and on fire."

Slog couldn't resist interjecting his personal opinion. "We can still hope." His remark earned a stern glare from Roadblock, which was eagerly returned in full.

"I don't think he likes you," Motormaster stated with a hint of glee. "In fact, I'm certain he'd like to see you dead. By his own hand, I'm sure!"

"He's nothing," Roadblock said, failing to convince himself of that statement. "Now, let us discuss our future." He began walking out of the room followed closely by Skywarp and Motormaster. "What's the word from Cybertron?"

"Cybertron is no longer a part of the equation," Motormaster answered, somewhat catching Roadblock off guard. "Since last you stepped foot on our home world, many things have changed. It is a weak reminder of a once great power," he continued. "Those who remain are either politically forced to or are unable to find a way off."

Roadblock was angered by the words he heard. "You lie! Cybertron is eternal! We will reclaim it for ourselves..."

Skywarp stopped and put his hand out towards Roadblock, stopping his forward motion. "Cybertron is a dead planet," he coldly whispered. "If we are to give new life to the Decepticon Empire, we must do so by moving in a new direction; not only in philosophy but also physically."

"Besides, let's not get ahead of ourselves yet," Motormaster added. "Planet Dag has yet to fall under our rule. I will not commit myself to future dealings with you unless you prove victorious in your next stage of conquest."

Roadblock stepped close to the former Stunticon Commander and narrowed his optics. A surge of power in his circuits illuminated their appearance twice their normal glow. Skywarp, being the savvy war veteran he was, realized that emotions were getting the better of those involved. Finding out one's homeland is no longer a viable destination often has that effect. The Seeker stepped in between the two warriors and prevented an altercation. "I've no room for doubters," Roadblock snarled. "And I've no need for the likes of you!"

Motormaster responded by stepping closer himself, forcing Skywarp to extend his arms and try to appease them both by reminding them of a common goal: the return to dominance of the Decepticon Empire. Lead by them, the greatest collection of war generals to ever unite. Slog, overhearing the majority of their conversation, gave into his urge to laugh boldly. Pleased his actions had disturbed the power-hungry trio, he elected to remove himself and head off to monitor their Autobot prisoners.


	5. Chapter 5

CHAPTER FIVE

_Autobot Holding Cells..._

Locked behind electrical bars with little hope of escaping, the battered and broken Autobots sat in silence and pondered what had happened. What was meant to be a mission to thwart a possible reemergence of the Decepticon Empire had turned into a virtual death sentence for all involved. Those who still functioned knew it was not to last much longer, for that was not in their enemies nature.

Slog entered the room with all the confidence of a victorious soldier. He walked tall and straight, his optics alert and satisfied at the sight he found. There, huddled together in a cramped holding cell, were his latest prizes. The usual optimism that flowed through the typical Autobot body was replaced by an undeniable surge of fear and uncertainty; and Slog drew strength from it. "I trust you're all comfortable," he stated. There was no malice in his tone, nor was their any trace of compassion.

"It's not over yet," Roadbuster responded. "You still have to take the planet itself, and your leader doesn't have it in him."

"Maybe," Slog agreed. "Maybe not. But let's get one thing clear, Autobot. He is not _my_ leader. Slog answers to nobody, least of all a crazed and deranged lunatic like Roadblock." He made his way to a nearby station and began to analyze his prisoner's overall condition. "You were brave to attempt to stop us," Slog admitted. "But foolish to think you could have succeeded. Look at you now," he continued, pointing at each body while announcing what he saw.

"The legendary engineer, Wheeljack, barely able to keep his optics working. His way is now one of near darkness and regret. And what of your long-time running mate, Whirl? Scarred and defeated, unable to walk on his own."

"The greatest military mind to ever join the Autobot ranks," Slog mockingly announced, referring to the weary Trailbreaker, "Now sits in a puddle of his own fluids, afraid of things that aren't even there. His mind has been broken."

"We still function!" Roadbuster shouted, fighting valiantly to stand. He made his way towards the electrical bars, his damaged right leg slinking behind him. "Hear this, Slog... before this is said and done, you will be dealt with."

Slog smiled. "Humor is such a lost treasure in times of war," he said. "Where was I? Oh yes, I was pointing out the remains of your mighty crew." He faked concern while searching the cell. "I don't see your gunner, the fearless Bluestreak." Slog's optics widened as a sadistic glow escaped from them. "Wait, I remember. He was melted down into this," he finished, revealing a type of storage container complete with his head as an ornament.

Roadbuster wanted to charge through those electrical bars and tear Slog apart. Rip his limbs from his body and beat him with them, then rip open his torso and burn his insides. His mind came up with hundreds of things to do to the Pretender, each one capable of causing more harm than the previous thought. But all he could do was stand there, looking out at the carnage, doing nothing.

"Calm yourself," Slog said. "He felt no pain, it was quick and dignified. You and your crew should count yourself blessed. You still function for the time being." He turned away momentarily and stepped out of sight. When he returned, he was pushing a mobile tray with something hidden beneath a large, black cover. It was at this instant that Roadbuster realized that Bumblebee and Windcharger were not in the cell with them. "Which is more than I can say for these two."

With slight hesitation, Slog removed the cover and exposed his latest creation to the prisoners. Wheeljack's optics went out completely, whether it was from a lack of energy or a refusal to look upon his mangled comrades was uncertain. The two bodies of the minibots had been forged into one. It was impossible to tell where one ended and the other began, and that was where Slog found its beauty. It was a perfect continuation of an ending. There were no arms or legs to be seen, only melted clumps of metal arranged with all the delicacy of a surgeon. Slog had taken careful precaution to ensure that both Autobot's insignias could be identified, but which was which was lost to the hands of time. "I call it, 'Together as One'... do you like it?"

No answer came. Roadbuster simply stared into the maddening gaze of the crazed combat artist, and fell back to the ground. He was both horrified and furious, and unable to fully realize either. Slog finally had enough and decided to exit, leaving the demonic form that was once two peace-loving Autobots in plain view for all to admire. The only slightly less grotesque but equally disturbing remains of Bluestreak rested only a few feet away. Behind Roadbuster, Wheeljack and Trailbreaker had slipped into stasis-lock, the Transformer equivalent of a coma. In the far corner of the holding cell, perhaps his truest friend in all walks of life sat leaning against the cold wall, his optics blackened and his color drained from his form.

Whirl was now one with the Matrix. His life-force had been extinguished.

* * *

Dag was now under Roadblock's rule. The rebel cells were slaughtered and their bodies burned in a sick celebratory showing of victory. With the natives destroyed and their Autobot captives a non-factor, the members of the savage crew were growing restless. They were fighters without a fight, warriors without a war. But if things continued to go as Roadblock planned, that would soon be remedied.

"Do you really feel that's a wise decision?" Skywarp asked, shaking his head disapprovingly. "Isn't it still premature to announce your intentions?"

"_Our _intentions," Roadblock corrected his seemingly unconvinced ally. "And no, I don't. Who is there to oppose us? Who out there would dare stand up to the power we now control?" He began pacing back and forth, casting a stern look towards each member of his gathering. "You and Motormaster have informed me that Cybertron is a... how did you put it?"

"A dead planet," Motormaster answered, before realizing an answer wasn't needed.

Roadblock silently confirmed his belief that the former Stunticon commander was an idiot and then continued. "The Autobots and Decepticons are scattered across the galaxies. When Cybertron's energy supplies were exhausted, members of both factions left only a few political pawns behind. Do you think _they_ will stand up against us?"

He paused at the sight of his reflection in the metallic walls that surrounded him, and reflected on past battles. "This badge of honor, this insignia that we have all chosen to wear despite being told not to... it was once an image that caused nightmares. I am ready to make it so once again."

"And how do you propose to do that?" Everyone's attention turned towards the speaker. He was an odd-looking 'con, with a unique and feared talent. "By sending out your declaration and announcing a new era?" Slog shook his head and grabbed a nearby seat. "Come now, Roadblock. Are you truly that delusional?"

"Hold your tone," Roadblock roared, his hand now hovering over his side-arm. "I've had enough of you."

"And I you," Slog responded. "I didn't put up much of a fight at first because I wanted to see just how far you'd take things. It's been taken far enough."

Motormaster nudged Skywarp, who returned the motion with a sly smirk of anticipation. Ever since they had arrived on Dag, a private bet had been made between the two of when Slog and Roadblock would come to blows. If things continued on the path they were heading, Skywarp was about to end up owing his companion five energon cubes.


	6. Chapter 6

CHAPTER SIX

"You have conquered a planet of old and dying relics. Of weakened and beaten never-were's." Slog remained seated, knowing of a secret that only he knew. A recently intercepted message sent via a priority channel, triple-coded and encrypted had recently been received in his personal quarters back in his Domain. "You have more energy than you know what to do with and the weapons you've claimed are unimpressive."

Birdbrain, Iguanus, and Bristleback showed no signs of surprise. They stood in silence and watched as the events unfolded. They had journeyed with Slog to the Pit and back, and if their true leader was going to start something with Roadblock, they were more than ready to back him up. In the grand scheme of things, Roadblock was an outsider looking in. Slog was a member of their family.

"I'm not sure what's happened to your logic center," Roadblock said, "But I'm done listening to you. Stand and fight, so that I may give my attention to matters that truly deserve them. Primarily, reestablishing the Decepticon Empire to its rightful place of dominance!"

Slog noticed a recently arrived trio enter the room, unseen by the others. He slowly rose from his feet and locked optics with Roadblock. "The Decepticon Empire will rise again. But you will not be a part of it." Slog's right hand smacked Roadblock across the chest, staggering him back a few steps and causing a look of shock to appear on his face. "I'm taking back control of this little mission," he calmly stated.

Roadblock regained his composure. He removed the side-arm from his holding compartment and aimed it directly at Slog's head. "After my coming is announced and I conquer all I see fit to conquer, I will remember this day just as fondly, for on this day I will have ended your life."

"Perhaps you'd like to rethink what you're about to do," a voice called out. All in attendance quickly turned and were shocked at who they found standing before them. Standing fully armed and ready for battle was Icepick, Scowl, and Wildfly, the 'missing' members of Slog's Pretender Monster team. Contrary to what had been reported and believe, the trio had not met their end on Charr and were very much no longer missing in action. Slog's secret had been revealed.

Roadblock remained defiant. "You dare tread on my glory? You dare interrupt the chain of events that I have set in motion?" He let out a nervous laugh. "You," he added, pointing at the threesome. "And you?" he continued, looking at Bristleback, Iguanus, and Birdbrain. "Freaks! Outcasts! You are no match for me and my partners!"

Skywarp shot a concerned glance at Motormaster, both silently confirming neither wanted anything to do with the current situation. "Our partnership is over," Motormaster announced, beating Skywarp out the exit. Moments later, they stole the exploration shuttle piloted by Scowl and left Dag behind them.

"Bah!" Roadblock shouted, his tone full of disgust. "I need no help when dealing with the likes of you and your kind!"

"Me and my kind?" Slog repeated. "Me and my kind!" he said again, much louder and with obvious anger in his voice. "Let me show you what me and my kind do to fools like you!" What happened next was an event that had once been thought lost to time, a happening never again to be witnessed due to the ravages of war. But it _was_ happening and there was nothing Roadblock could do to stop it.

Slog and his comrades had merged into Monstructor.

* * *

Roadblock quickly reached down his legs and removed the pair of plasma blasters, which were fully charged and ready for use. With a weapon in each hand, he opened fire at the giant that stood before him. The laser blasts bounced off their target, sending sparks in a million directions. Reflected in Roadblock's optics was a sudden understanding of the situation; this was a battle he was not going to win.

Monstructor, made of six minds and sick souls, was evil given form. The creature was slow compared to Roadblock, but his power was unmatched. "I am going to kill you." His voice was loud and deep, rich in anger and insanity. "Slowly."

"You don't frighten me!" Roadblock answered back. "I fear nothing!" His was not an enviable situation. The name Monstructor was well known and rightfully feared throughout the galaxies. Some went so far as to say that when the Pretender Monsters merged into the walking destroyer, their logic sensors were taken over by some form of timeless evil, leaving the gestalt without any hints of previous traits exhibited by its individual members.

Monstructor was not impressed, nor was he amused. He reached down and grabbed the defiant Decepticon and hoisted him up into the air. "You lie." He coldly corrected. "You fear me." By simply making contact with Monstructor's hand, Roadblock began to feel his outer shell weaken. Upon further realization, his form was beginning to decompose, ripe with open compartments edged with rust.

"Release me!" Roadblock roared as an undeniable pain began to overtake his body. His limbs were useless and simply dangled downward, no longer able to offer any hope of breaking free from Monstructor's grip. "I said release me!"

"Very well," the creature muttered. He opened his hand and allowed Roadblock's rotting form to fall to the ground. The impact snapped what remained of his arms and legs from his body. Exposed coils and circuitry hissed and sprawled along the ground like angered snakes. Monstructor grabbed and activated his fission cannon, allowing it to draw power from the stars themselves.

"Wait," Roadblock called out. "Wait! What are you doing?"

"Releasing you." The powerful beam engulfed Roadblock's form and heated it beyond its melting point. Screams filled Monstructor's audio receivers as Roadblock's liquid remains began to stain the ground. Combining into the powerful being Monstructor and using the fission cannon was extremely taxing to his energy supply. Nearly drained completely of all power, the one became six again.

But before a true celebration could be enjoyed, Birdbrain noticed a strange ship entering the sector. The Autobot symbol was quickly spotted on the ship's wings, causing Slog to unexpectedly change plans and order a fast retreat. Apparently the people of Dag weren't as primitive as Roadblock had assumed, for they had been able to send a request for aid to Cybertron via a coded frequency that went undetected.

Once word reached Cybertron that offensive action had been taken against the inhabitants of Dag, the situation called for an intervention. Many knew it would only be a matter of time, but they were forced by diplomacy's hand to wait for proper proof. It was regrettable that while time ticked away, several Autobots had lost their lives in trying to stop the situation from reaching that very point.


	7. Chapter 7

CHAPTER SEVEN

The Autobot ship deployed its landing gear and touched down. It was a medium sized ship with a crew compliment of forty, the majority of those being basic-entry soldiers serving a two-year tour of exploration. The color was reminiscent of the original Autobot super ship, The Ark. Equipped with the latest warp-drive capabilities and an impressive ten laser-cannons for defense purposes, the Primus Flame II was quite respected throughout the quadrant.

The soldiers made their way out of the ship in haste to secure their surroundings. The command crew of the Primus Flame II stepped out onto Dag's soil and looked around. Great damage had been caused, and without seeing a single fallen body, they knew lives had been lost. The exact number would be detailed at a later date. Now, they were to investigate what and who remained in Outer Drek.

Thunderclash, the commander in chief and former leader of a sect of Autobots known as TurboMasters, identified what appeared to have been the primary base of operations and led his senior crew in that direction. To many, he was the latest in a long line of true heroes, often drawing comparisons to Ultra Magnus and even Optimus Prime himself. He was extremely intelligent, powerful, and seemingly fearless. The comparisons did have some merit, as aside from the character traits he also shared a familiar alt-mode as the two legends mentioned, only more futuristic in its layout.

To his left could be found Roulette, a graduate of the Academy for Cybertronian Law Enforcement and very respected sharpshooter. She served as chief engineer aboard the Primus Flame II and lived for each opportunity to display her true skills on away-missions. Her mistrust of the Decepticons, and all beings that still cling to their beliefs, was burned into her many years prior when her village was raided and destroyed by Decepticon nomads. Her blue, black, and orange coloring helped hide the fact that she was in fact, a she.

Her inability to accept the end of the final Great War led to some tense situations with a particular crewmate. The gunner and weapons expert of the team, Nightracer, was once a member of the Decepticon Army. She serves aboard the Primus Flame II not out of choice or admiration for their crew, but because Soundwave ordered her as part of a "reuniting" of their factions in an attempt to repair and maintain a working relationship. The old ways are still reflected in her opinions and more often than not, end up causing heated arguments.

Thunderclash stepped through what remained of the primary entrance. No signs of life, no hints of a trap. It was almost too silent for his liking. "Shine a light down there," he ordered. Chromia did as requested, engulfing the corridor with a bright burst of visual aid. Chromia served as communications officer on the bridge, and had been a member of Thunderclash's crew longer than anyone else. She's tough, determined, and more than capable to hold her own in battle. "All right," Thunderclash continued, seeing that there weren't any spots capable of hiding an ambush, "Let's move on down."

"If you don't mind," Clamp Down said, brushing aside his commanding officer while holding his automatic weapon tightly, "I'll lead us in." Once a police officer, always a police officer. Clamp Down, who bore a striking resemblance to Autobots Sideswipe and Red Alert, had been one of Cybertron's most awarded law enforcers. Through an interplanetary talent exchange program, he served on Earth for four years before returning back to his home planet. Seeing Cybertron as a shell of its former glory was hard for the kindhearted cop to accept.

Clamp Down led them through the corridor only a few meters before stopping suddenly, turning his optics towards the holding cells. "Oh my," the black and white Autobot whispered. He turned and found Thunderclash eagerly awaiting a report. "I've found the prisoners."

* * *

Leaving Dag behind, the Primus Flame II began its journey to planet Antilla. Once there, Wheeljack and Trailbreaker would receive the medical attention they desperately needed. The journey back to Cybertron was deemed to be too long for them in their current condition, so the decision was made to instead seek out the nearest acceptable alternate destination.

Under direct orders from Ultra Magnus, Thunderclash ordered a party of twenty soldiers to stay behind and help rebuild Outer Drek and provide a sense of protection for the remaining inhabitants. In time, the Autobots would establish a permanent base of operations on nearby planet Holostak, far enough from Dag as to not be a hindrance to their natural progression and way of life, but close enough to act quickly if aggressors ever attempted another takeover.

The bodies of those who had fallen were also aboard the Primus Flame II. Once the necessary repairs had been made to the survivors, the off-line warriors would be given a proper ceremony on their return to Cybertron. The bastardized remains of Bluestreak, Bumblebee, and Windcharger were placed in an unused storage compartment so their warped appearances wouldn't traumatize the crew. Whirl, for the most part still intact, was placed in a resting chamber inside the medical bay.

Clamp Down entered the Priority Care Holding Chamber and cast a concerned look upon the bodies of Wheeljack and Trailbreaker. Since being rescued and placed aboard the ship, Trailbreaker hadn't stopped laughing. The decorated war veteran was losing his battle against a dying mind. It was a low, soft laugh that some would consider a chuckle. A constant noise to be ignored.

"I'm sorry we weren't able to arrive sooner," Clamp Down remarked to Wheeljack. The engineer turned his head in the direction of the security officer's voice. His optics had fully burned out, leaving him totally blind. "Sorry about... the others."

"Don't be," Wheeljack replied. His tone was weak and tired. "It's the way of the beast." That was one phrase he never thought he'd hear himself say. "You got there when you got there. Don't beat yourself up over it."

Clamp Down was momentarily distracted by Trailbreaker's laughing, but quickly returned his attention to Wheeljack. "We should arrive at Antilla shortly. They have the best medical services in this section of space. You should make a full recovery."

"And what about my friend?" he asked, leaving his head towards Trailbreaker. "What can they do for him?"

"I don't know," Clamp Down answered hesitantly. "They'll do what they can." A quiet beeping sound was heard coming from his right arm. "Excuse me," he said. He turned and walked a few steps away before answering his communicator. "Clamp Down here... yes, I'm there now... laughing, he hasn't stopped... I'm talking to him right now... I see... yes, I'll ask... Clamp Down out." The Autobot law enforcer returned to face Wheeljack. "That was Chromia," he informed his passenger. "She detected another Autobot signature back at the holding cells... was there another prisoner?"

"Yes."

Clamp Down was caught off guard by the brief answer. He waited for more information to be revealed, but none came. So he decided to ask for it directly. "We kind of need to know who it was... for our report back to Ultra Magnus."

Wheeljack thought about remaining silent, ignoring the request and simply welcoming the darkness. But he was bound by an old-school bond to respect those who wore the red-faced symbol, as he himself had worn for millions of years. With a tired and weak voice, the engineer answered. "Roadbuster."


	8. Chapter 8

CHAPTER EIGHT

"What happened to him?" Clamp Down assumed the reason for the lag in registering the additional signature was due to the type of death suffered by the green commando. When the death is extremely explosive and complete, the bodies' life signature is weakened and fades quickly making it hard to detect with the current equipment. It was not uncommon for Responders to survey a battle scene and record various statistics, only to have to go back days later and adjust their findings when the weaker signatures had finally been recognized and declared. It was through this gruesome and undesirable function that some death totals were increased from a very small number to totaling well into the hundreds.

"He escaped," Wheeljack slowly answered. Trailbreaker's laughter had been growing slightly louder ever since Clamp Down had entered the room.

"How?" Now it was Clamp Down's turn to utter single word phrases.

Wheeljack sat up from his medical slab and carefully made his way towards Clamp Down. He put both arms out in front of him to help keep him from bumping into anything. Seeing him struggle, Clamp Down quickly went to his aid. He led him to the far wall where two chairs waited to hold them. "He used Whirl's helicopter blades to break through the floor. He knew... we knew... he couldn't carry us all out of there, so we gave him our support and wished him well."

Clamp Down shook his head. He didn't seem very pleased by what he had heard. "That's not good," he sighed. "He needs medical attention. He needs to be questioned about what happened."

"He needs to be left alone," Wheeljack stated.

"No, we need to find him." Clamp Down raised his hand to his faceplate and began to activate his communications device. "I'm going to radio Chromia about the signature being Roadbuster, and she can advise Thunderclash..."

Wheeljack reached out and found Clamp Down's arm. With more force than he recognized he was using, the blind engineer forcefully lowered the arm back down. "Let it go."

Out of respect for all the years of service Wheeljack had given the Autobots, Clamp Down opted not to take a retaliatory stance. He got to his feet and glared down at his companion. A mixture of anger and pity filled the officer. _How dare he lay his hand upon an officer of the law! How dare he, blind and beaten, tell me what and whatnot to do! Who does he think he is?_

And in a moment of clarity and compassion, Clamp Down silently answered his own questions. A rush of guilt overcame him. He knew who Wheeljack was. A once strong and vital cog in the Autobot way of life was now a defeated and lonely warrior without sight. A relic whose latest battle led to the deaths of his closet friends. An old-timer whose only hope of redemption lies in the hands of a supposed ghost and his personal mission of revenge.

"This is Clamp Down. Respond, Chromia." Wheeljack heard the call and began to slip into another realm of depression. "The signature belonged to Roadbuster." A long pause followed, as Clamp Down debated on what to say next. "According to Wheeljack, he was... obliterated while fighting back against the Decepticons." Wheeljack perked up and nodded his head approvingly, taking whatever small victories fell his way. Trailbreaker's laughter became too loud to ignore. "I wish we knew what was so funny," Clamp Down asked, sitting once again next to Wheeljack.

Hearing the question, Trailbreaker sat up and looked at both Autobots with heavy concentration. The laughter stopped and for a moment, he was the Trailbreaker of old. A light-hearted soldier who always knew what to say and when to say it. "Roadbuster," he stated. "He's gone monster-hunting! Monster-hunting!"

As Clamp Down and Wheeljack silently watched Trailbreaker fall back into his crazed world, the laughter returned. Only this time, it seemed a bit more focused.

**THE END.**


End file.
